عَلى خصرِهِ والرِّدفِ قد ماجَ شعرُهُ

عَلى خصرِهِ والرِّدفِ قد ماجَ شعرُهُ

فَأَوقعَ قَلبي في الطَّويلِ العريضِ

فَأَوقعَ قَلبي في الطَّويلِ العريضِ

His hair has rippled over his waist and rump,

His long hair falling on his waist,

And so cast my heart into troubles long and wide.

Has captured my heart, flung into deep longing.

فَيا طَرفَهُ يَرمي السِّهامَ بِمُهجَتي

فَيا طَرفَهُ يَرمي السِّهامَ بِمُهجَتي

وَيجهدُ فيهِ النَّفسَ دونَ غموضِ

وَيجهدُ فيهِ النَّفسَ دونَ غموضِ

So, O eye of his, shooting arrows into my heart,

Those eyes, shooting arrows into my soul,

And wearing out the soul within it, without closing,

Exhausting my spirit, clouding my mind.

تَرفَّقْ بِقَلبي ثمَّ نَفسكَ إِنَّهُ

تَرفَّقْ بِقَلبي ثمَّ نَفسكَ إِنَّهُ

ضَعيفٌ وَما إِن أَنتَ غير مَريضِ

ضَعيفٌ وَما إِن أَنتَ غير مَريضِ

Be gentle with my heart, then with yourself, for it

Have mercy upon my heart, and yourself -

Is weak, and you are nothing but ailing.

It's frail, and you're not entirely well.